My story starts in February of 2013 when I decided to get a small lump checked out. Turned out to be Stage IIIA. Went through all the recommended treatments. Was going to take the recommended hormonal therapy but at the last minute opted out. At that time in my life I was on a great path. Traveled the world with my Air Force husband, I had raised two wonderful children, home schooled them for 18 years, and was embarking on my new career. Everything seemed to be going so well for me. I was barely starting my new job in administration at a new charter school, only 3 years in, and I got slammed with this diagnosis. The resulting surgery, treatments and radiation made it impossible for me to be an effective staff member. I had to resign. I felt like, and still do feel like, a failure.
After less then 3 1/2 years of dealing with PTSD from treatment and anxiety attacks. I am diagnosed now with metastatic disease. It's now in my liver, bones and tissues around my pancreas. So I am back in treatment. Recently had a port put back in my chest. (Back in 2013 when I completed a very horrible dose dense ACT chemo experience, I could not get that sucker out fast enough.) July and August of this year have been a roller coaster of emotions. So many tests and procedures.
Now all I hope for these days is to be able to hold my first grandchild.
I find that people who I once thought were friends do not know how to deal with me. So I choose not to tell them how I am doing. I actually had one supposed friend say to me, 'Well...it's a good thing you have health insurance.' How cold is that?!
-- 13kkan, diagnosed metastatic in July 2016
The opinions expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily represent those of Breastcancer.org nor are they intended as a substitute for the medical advice of physicians.